The Spy Who Loved Me
by escapingeveline
Summary: (and the man who got a lot more than he bargained for) The detective business isn't really as exciting as it's cracked up to be. So when Arthur Kirkland's newest job finds him first and refuses to leave him alone, he has no choice but to go along for the ride. Oneshot written for the Secret Santa exchange on lj. Prompt: Detectives and agents AU


The Spy who Loved Me

(and the man who got a lot more than he bargained for)

* * *

12:00. The table for two in the left hand corner. He was always there, right on time. Arthur brought the cold drink to his lips, frowning slightly as he stared at the empty seat. He'd been trailing this man for a week now, and this appointment was one that never changed. Something was wrong.

Was he caught? Did the man notice him?

No, impossible. Arthur had been very careful, never wearing bright colors, never sitting in the same place twice. He didn't stare or talk loudly enough to bring attention to himself. All he did was sit quietly as people bustled around him, and wrote in his small, moleskin notebook. At 12:05 he picked up his pen, jotting down notes in small, neat letters.

_Tuesday. Late._

The past couple of pages were filled with these kinds of notes, what the man wore, who he talked to, right down to what he ordered. Some days he spoke to no one, other times a man or woman would join him and they would have a drink as they talked. In terms of eating, Mr. Jones would never miss out on the chance to order some type of carb or fatty food. He seemed to keep fit despite this. But other than his ability to eat as much as he liked and not gain a pound, there wasn't much interesting about this man. Arthur had at first assumed that he was hired over a lover's dispute, as per usual, but the the small Japanese man seemed to show little to no interest in his subject. Arthur could only assume that Mr. Honda was only running an errand for another interested party, perhaps an angry spouse.

He was handed a folder of a few bits of basic information, a photo, his name, age and date of birth, that sort of thing. His objective was to report on the man's day to day activities. As far as Arthur could tell, he enjoyed this restaurant and its burgers, he tended to stay in most mornings in his hotel, and he didn't seem to have much of a workplace. The hotel certainly added to the spouse theory, suggesting that he was kicked out of the house, but it was strange that he had chosen one of the higher class establishments. Most tend to stay in crappy motels, especially if they're out of a job.

Arthur sighed, checking his watch again to check the time. Twenty six minutes late. Jones wasn't coming. He snapped his notebook shut, pocketing it safely before leaving his usual tip. He would have to start back at the hotel again. Arthur pulled his jacket over his shoulders and made his way out, shivering slightly in the biting cold. It was a long way from here to the hotel, but he wouldn't dare take a taxi, in case he spotted his target on the way there. Instead he just slid on his gloves to keep himself a bit warmer. Although that did little to fight against the sudden chill as warm breath tickled his neck.

"_Take the next turn_."

Now, Arthur would have liked to say that he stood his ground, perhaps said some calm and cool catchphrase, maybe even swing a punch or two. What he did instead was stutter and awkwardly trip over his own feet for a moment. A rough pair of hands grasped his shoulders, causing the entire world to spin. His vision went white as the back of his head had a less than gentle meeting with the brick wall that had seemed to appear behind him.

"What do you know?"

Arthur blinked the stars out of his eyes, meeting his gaze with his attacker's.

"Al-"

Oh. Breathing. He'd forgotten to breathe. There was a sharp intake of breath before he tried again.

"Alfred F. Jones."

The grip on his shoulders tightened, although the steady glare he was getting from his target didn't waver.

"How do you know that name?"

Blue. His eyes were a sharp kind of blue, cold and unforgiving. Arthur took a hard, shuddered breath, but held his gaze.

"Client confidentiality. You won't be getting a single thing out of me." His tone had hardened now that he was over the initial shock. Arthur moved to push Jones's hands off of his shoulder, pausing only when his grip didn't seem to budge. "Let _go_." The hand on his shoulder was holding on far too tightly for comfort, and the cocky grin on the man's face was started to make him uneasy.

"You're a bit too cocky for a newbie." Arthur only rolled his eyes in response, as he was using the exact same word to mentally describe his attacker only seconds ago. "Especially if you think that I can't get a single thing out of you." Jones laughed quietly, a deep menacing sound. "Tell me, what do you know of my job here?"

The look that Arthur had returned him was nothing short of _completely_ unimpressed. Who the hell did this asshole think he was!? Sure there was something about him that made Arthur's feet feel like concrete, and that may have had something to do with the fact that he was pretty sure he was being threatened by this psychopath.

"You don't work, as far as I know. Although I can tell you why your wife left you, you're a bit of an egoist, Mr. Jones."

"What?" The steely blue softened instantly, Jones's hard smirk turning into a small frown. "Um, I'm not married."

Arthur blinked a few times, a bit taken back by the swift change from abusive asshole to lost puppy. He raised his hands in a silent surrender, suddenly very unsure of what was going on. "Well then I'm sure that whoever is paying me a nice sum of money to keep an eye on you has their reasons. It's not really my job to ask."

"Your job." Jones deadpanned, his hands dropping from Arthur's shoulders. He closed his eyes slowly, and Arthur could practically see him counting to ten as he reassessed his situation in a calmer fashion. "And where do you work, exactly?"

"I'm a private detective, so it's my own little office. It's just a few streets down actually."

He waited a moment as the man nodded to himself, accepting his current employment as if it were some grand revelation.

"You're good at what you do." He said finally.

"A few moments ago you called me a newbie."

"You are. By my standards. You just…shit." Alfred sighed, glaring down at the ground as his hands fiddled with his bottom lip. "You caught someone's attention."

Arthur scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. "Well I don't need to be a private detective to tell that much, Jones. If I hadn't caught your attention I wouldn't have this pestering lump on my head, now would I?"

He looked up suddenly, concerned.

"I hurt you?"

It was very unsettling, this man's ability to look completely helpless without a moment's notice. Only a second ago Arthur was convinced that Jones would break every one of his fingers to find out who had hired him. Now he looked as if he were ready to take Arthur home and feed him some hot soup, or something clichéd of that nature.

"Just call me Alfred by the way. Not even my boss calls me Jones." Suddenly there was a pair of hands behind his head, searching for the small bump caused by the brick wall. Arthur froze, completely unsure of what to do at this point. As much as detective work was portrayed as seducing women and long, sweeping trenchcoats, it was a completely different story in real life. There wasn't much human contact at all really. It was mostly just the opposite, following and watching and never really speaking to anybody. So there wasn't much to prepare him for when the target of a client gently musses through his hair and introduces himself.

He closed his eyes, a bit unsure as to why, but it was better than staring at the cracked sidewalk while his head was being held down like this. Arthur focused on the gentle breathing above him instead, _Alfred's_ quiet muttering to himself ruffling his hair slightly.

"There is only a bit of swelling, but head injuries are the worst." Alfred finally took his hands away from Arthur's head, leaving Arthur to stare at him blankly. "Come on, I'll getcha an ice pack. They probably think we're in cahoots anyways, so my room it is."

Without much of a warning Arthur was tugged away by the hand, back onto the busy street and wondering what kind of person still said 'cahoots' in this day and age. Alfred walked right up to the edge of the busy road, his hand shooting up to flag down a taxi that just barely passed them by.

Alfred had very rough hands, Arthur mused. Strong too. He wasn't too scared now, especially seeing as his target was holding his hand as if they were about to go out on a date. Or perhaps it was the hold of a mother who was keeping her wayward child by her side. Arthur gazed up at him, pondering this for a while. Why was he even going along with this without question? He could take care of a small bump by himself, and not to mention that this was the guy who caused the bruise in the first place.

A quick skip in his heart answered the question instantly. Alfred was interesting, possibly dangerous. Okay, well perhaps not dangerous really, being a private detective could cause the mind to create fun and elaborate fantasies, but he seemed it. There was something that was absolutely fascinating about him, which was a lot more than he could say about most of his other clients.

A rough squeeze to his hand brought Arthur back to attention. "We don't talk about this until we get to the room, got it?" Alfred was looking back down at him, his expression stern. That kind look in his eyes being swapped out for his original icy glare. Arthur nodded without hesitation, feeling his body relax as Alfred rewarded the motion with a warm smile.

"Good. In that case, you can tell me something about yourself on the way there." The hold on his hand was released as Alfred stepped off the curb towards the taxi, holding the door open for him. It was as he was taking his seat in the car did Arthur notice that he was trusting a stranger. Not that Alfred was a complete stranger after having watched him for a solid week or so, but the warning bells were still going off.

Which absolutely _excited_ him. How long had he sat in his small, cramped office, wishing that someone interesting would finally come along? And now that someone had swept him off of his feet and slammed him up against brick wall. But every adventure couldn't be perfect, he supposed.

Arthur fidgeted in his seat, a bit excited over this sense of adventure that had seemed to have had surrounded him. His hand instantly went to his inner jacket pocket, pulling out his notebook and a pen. He shifted himself closer to the window, in case Alfred had decided to peek at his notes.

_12:46_

_Target cornered me in, hostile. Seems like an alright fellow otherwise. Threatened me earlier. Mentioned having a boss. Unemployed theory was incorrect. Not married. Single? Is very careful about being seen by someone._

His pen gently prodded at his bottom lip as Arthur considered that. Didn't Alfred mention being in cahoots with someone? Or was that someone would assume that they were in cahoots? The term "cahoots" was definitely used in some context.

He glanced up at his target, meeting Alfred's curious stare. "Is that…" Alfred's words died out as he shook his hand, waving the question away. "I'll ask later. Close the book for now, I wanna get to know more about my little stalker."

Arthur huffed loudly, putting the book away as asked. "I'm not a stalker. Not for free anyway." He shifted through his pockets for a while more, pausing as his fingers brushed against his wallet. "I'm a private detective, and you just happened to be the subject of interest this week." Pulling it out, Arthur slipped out a small business card from inside one of its pockets, handing it over to Alfred. "See? So don't go getting a big head."

There was a quiet snort on Alfred's behalf as he took the card. It was studied before being folded up and stuffed in the front pocket of his jeans. Arthur held his breath, biting down on his lip to keep himself from protesting how harshly his card was treated.

"Fair enough. We'll just ignore how you've just given me your number then."

Arthur scoffed, turning towards the window the hide the faint blush on his cheeks. "Don't flatter yourself, that's my work number you idiot."

It also happened to be his cell number. One phone line was cheaper after all.

"And while we're on the topic of you flattering yourself, I should have you know that I _do_ happen to carry a gun on me, so I wouldn't recommend trying anything."

"Is that right?"

Alfred sounded much more amused than scared, much to Arthur's annoyance. He could swear that he could hear him laughing quietly in his corner.

"Yes. Yes it is." He crossed his arms as he declared the matter finished. That was all that was going to be said about any potential romances. Not to say that Alfred wasn't attractive, and he was definitely alluring as whole, but dating clients was never a good idea. He could only imagine that dating targets would bring on even worse consequences.

Not that it was an option in the first place. Never.

Arthur spared a glance at his new acquaintance, despite the fact that they were not exactly formally introduced. Although he already knew enough about him to call their relations an 'acquaintanceship', even if this information was given to him in a thin manila folder. Alfred had seemed to have lost interest in Arthur for the time being, his attention being focused on starting outside the window with a stern look.

"How about you Casanova? Do you normally bring people up into your hotel room after just meeting them once?"

The intense stare softened, but only slightly as Alfred turned to him again.

"I'll tell you once we get to the room. For now you will stay close to my side." It was an order, not a request. Arthur bristled slightly at the way it was asked, but said nothing. Instead he turned towards his window, silently announcing the conversation over.

Alfred didn't speak again until the car slowed to a stop in front the hotel. He reached over to the driver, wordlessly handing over a wad of cash before stepping out. Arthur followed just as silently, looking up to the taller man for further instruction. Fortunately, Alfred took no time in delivering.

His hand roughly took Arthur's arm, tugging him along as he made his way to the door and bringing him in close to Alfred's side.

"H-hey, what the he-"

"Not a word. You promised." Arthur had done absolutely nothing of the sort, but something told him that this wasn't the moment to bring that particular fact up. "Relax, and look natural."

Alfred's hand squeezed softly and then paused, as if he wasn't sure of what came next. With a small sigh, his grip slid down Arthur's arm, coming to a rest as Alfred clasped his hand again.

Arthur's body seemed to refuse to let him breathe, his shoulders stiffening up instantly. Sure, Alfred had already grabbed for his hand before, but this time was gentler. He could only try his best to take in air as his mind betrayed him, mentally replaying the way he could feel Alfred's fingers moving down his arm through his jacket.

Shit, this entire "adventure" was getting out of hand.

"I said _relax_." Alfred's warm fingers threaded through his own, the hold firm and comforting. "You're one of those really cool private eyes, right? You can hold down a cover no problem, can't you?"

A cover? What on earth did they need a cover for? Regardless, Arthur regained control of his lungs, breathing out slowly as he relaxed, casting out any groundless belief that there was something going on between them. He nodded slowly, walking just a bit taller. Alfred was right, he was a detective extraordinaire! His entire life was in preparation for some grand adventure, pretending to be Alfred's partner for a quick walk across the lobby was simple.

He returned Alfred's squeeze, flashing him a bold smile. To anyone else, they were just a happy couple in love.

Alfred gave him a small trembling smile, before ducking his head down towards the ground. Ha. The boy could stand to learn a thing or two about detection.

They made their way over to the hotel elevator silently, smiles in place, hands tightly clasped together. Arthur's grip loosened as the elevator doors closed, but the gentle pressure applied to his hand protested otherwise. He complied again, wondering just how paranoid this Alfred guy was. For christ's sake, who did he think was watching him!?

Well, Arthur was, but that was before. Had his client hired other detectives as backup?

It was only until they were safely behind the closed doors of Alfred's room that he was finally allowed to let go.

"Do you know who hired me?" He asked as soon as Alfred's grip loosened, and Arthur's hand quickly made its way stiffly by his own side.

"No. Sit down."

He looked around for a chair of some sort, before settling on the edge of the bed.

"Aren't you curious as to who wants to know what you're up to?" Was Arthur really the one who should be asking the questions in this case? He stopped talking for a moment as he watched Alfred shuffle through the fridge, supposedly getting an ice pack of some sort. Which was a bit unnecessary, as the swelling had already gone down quite a bit. Why was he here again?

Arthur looked curiously around the room, noting with a frown just how sparsely used it was. Strange, for a man who was constantly spending a lot of time in here. The only spot that looked well used was his desk, filled with sheets of paper haphazardly shoved into folders and notebooks. Somewhere under the mess of papers, Arthur could make out the shape of a laptop hidden underneath.

He jumped back slightly as Alfred's face was suddenly in front of his own, hands snaking around the back of his neck to press the ice pack behind his head.

"You're not dizzy or anything, are you?" Alfred's gaze was more analytical than concerned, as if he was checking every last bit of his expression for some sign of harm. Arthur couldn't help but wonder if he had dealt with these kinds of injuries before.

"No." He never really was. There was almost no reason to have come here. And yet Arthur had.

"There's nothing in this room."

Alfred stopped checking up his patient, meeting his eyes instead with a curious look. "Alright, you're either more messed up than I thought, or you've been blind this entire time and I never noticed."

Arthur shook his head slightly, being careful not to upset the ice pack that was held in place.

"Your suitcase is still packed," he explained, staring pointedly at the small bag by the corner, "and from here it looks like the bathroom is pretty empty. The only thing that you've used here is that desk, and maybe the bed. But the maid probably cleaned that one up, so I can't tell."

There was a small bout of silence as Alfred watched him, as if he was waiting for Arthur to keep on going. He only shrugged weakly, not having anything else to share.

"I just don't need much, that's all. Besides, you never know when you have to catch a plane right? It's easier just to have everything packed and ready for a quick getaway." Alfred stood as he talked, taking the ice pack away from Arthur's head and finally giving him some breathing space.

"Does that feel any better?"

Arthur nodded, although he felt no real difference.

"Good." The ice pack was tossed on the bed as Alfred walked over to his desk, swinging out the chair so that it came to a rest in front of Arthur. "Now to talk about why you're here."

An excellent question. He was asking himself the same one just a moment ago.

"What do you know?" Alfred kept their eyes locked onto one another, his gaze steady. Arthur could have just as easily looked away, if he were the type to back down easily.

"Nothing too important, just some background information." He never really did find anything incriminating. Arthur clearly remembered the day that he had met up with a woman for his lunch, and he was convinced that he had Alfred pegged as a cheater. But Alfred had never made a move and Arthur was forced to write up the girl as only a friend. Although it was exciting, if just for a moment.

Alfred nodded towards Arthur, his eyes glued to his jacket. "What about your notebook? You took notes every day, if I remember correctly."

He cursed quietly, more than a bit disappointed in himself for being caught. "That's private information for the client."

"Mhmm." Alfred nodded understandingly, already reaching forward to undo Arthur's jacket. Before he could protest, the notebook was in the wrong hands and Arthur was trying his damn hardest not to dwell too much on how those hands felt against his chest as he was being undressed.

Well, kinda undressed. Either way, it was still enough to short circuit his mind, if only for a split second.

Arthur reached for the book with a frown, only to be stopped by a simple shake of the head.

"Don't try it." Alfred's eyes flickered up from the book, keeping his gaze steady and forceful. "Trust me, you don't want to."

He paused, before slowly putting his hands on his lap. Arthur fiddled with his fingers for a moment as Alfred flipped through the pages. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.

"So the only reason that I'm here is just cause you wanted to read my notes? They're not interesting."

Alfred's lips twitched into a smile, holding open a page for Arthur to read. "You've even got my favorite type of burger down, and on the second day too. That's not too bad."

"You brought me here so that I could tell you about your favorite burger?" Arthur crossed his arms, completely unamused.

He responded with a short shake of his head, turning his attention back to the book.

"I was just wondering if you had noticed. Then of course, I need to know who keeps trying to do me in. I thought you were an assassin at first you know."

"_What?"_

"I'm not usually supposed to say things like this, but my handler has gotten used to it." Alfred leaned back in the chair, flipping through a few more pages before handing back the notebook. "Apparently I'm a bit of a showoff, according to him."

"_People have been trying to kill you!?"_

Alfred laughed lightly as he ended up reaching back into Arthur's jacket to put away the notebook, as Arthur himself made no effort into doing it himself. "People have tried to kill you too. Namely, me." He put his hand over Arthur's chest, right where the notebook was. "I can't really let you get away with this information of course, you know too much."

He didn't even have enough time to fawn over the fact that Alfred was touching him again. Alfred could kill him. He _could._ It was in that icy blue in his eyes when he had first met him, then the charm that had lead Arthur right into his hotel room. Alone. He had planned on killing him from the start, from the first moment where he had shoved him into that dark alleyway. Arthur's eyes dashed around the room, finding no possible weapon lying around. He still had his pen in his pocket. If he could just…

Arthur's trembled as soon as a sharp noise was heard from across the room. After a second of shock, he recognized it as the telephone on the desk, ringing shrilly. Alfred smiled at him far too gently for a murdering psychopath and lazily made his way towards it. "Stay still. I can't really protect you if you're gonna try and run."

Protect? Arthur looked to him at a loss for words. He'd gotten himself into something stupid, hadn't he? Something _really _stupid.

"Who are you?"

Alfred raised a finger to his own lips, asking for him to be silent as he picked up the phone. Strangely, he didn't say a word into the device, only nodding twice before his smile fell. There was a long silence, and at one point, Arthur wasn't even sure that there was anyone speaking on the other line."I understand." was all that he said when Alfred finally spoke up.

The phone was placed down gently as Alfred's eyes wandered around the room, picking things out. After a moment, he went to the bedstand, pulling out a small box and tossing it Arthur's way.

"We have to go." His voice was hard again, his sense of humor instantly disappearing from his tone.

Arthur fumbled with the box before opening it, shaking his head as soon as he saw what was inside. "Alfred, I don't know anything about guns." He took it out of the box, treating it gently as if it could go off at any second.

Alfred gave him a hard stare, his eyebrows furrowing. "But I thought you said that you had a gun!"

"I do. I inherited my father's old Winchester rifle."

"But you've never used it." Alfred's voice was deadpanned, his look disbelieving.

Arthur nodded. "I've never even touched the thing."

Alfred sighed and shook his head "Relax, the safety is on." He had already taken out his own firearm while Arthur was distracted, the sudden presence of another weapon unsettling him deeply. "Shoot me, and the only thing that will be keeping you alive is your cardio skills and the seven bullets in the PPK."

There was a loud shot heard somewhere outside, followed by a disgusted scoff from Alfred. "Didn't even bother with silencers this time. Sloppy."

"I wasn't going to…PPK?" Arthur's head was spinning, the hand that was previously cradling the gun was now holding onto it with a white-knuckled grip.

And there it was again, that stupid cheesy grin. "Yeah, a Walther PPK. I thought you'd get a kick out of it."

"Why on _earth_, would I get a kick out of-"

Another shot, followed by screaming. Arthur flinched, his grip on the gun tightening even more.

"Aw come on. Don't you watch any James Bond flicks? That gun is his signature!" Alfred looked far too happy about the fact, his smile growing as he made his way over to the desk. He pocketed a few papers before opening his laptop, tapping a few keys before closing it again.

"James Bond is a fictional spy." Arthur was trembling by now, watching Alfred walk around the room so calmly. At this point, he was unsure if he himself would even be able to walk without his knees knocking together.

Alfred turned to look at him, fishing out a small box of matches from his pocket. "True. That's where me and him lose a few things in common." He turned back to his desk for a moment, quickly lighting a small match and flicking it towards the piles of paper at his desk. "Come on, we've stayed too long."

He didn't say a word as Alfred took his hand again, leading him out the door. All he could do was to stumble behind him, the gun held tightly to his chest. Arthur made a move to turn to the elevator before Alfred roughly pulled him towards the stair case, shaking his head. He really couldn't focus on much after that, only listening to the sound of their shoes hitting the stairs as they made their way up. He could hear the bullets ricocheting off of the walls, making his ears ring as they got louder and louder. Arthur tried to close his eyes, but that attempt was quickly thwarted as Alfred gave him a quick tug, hissing a quiet '_focus_' as they continued running.

Arthur's legs felt like concrete, his lungs burning. The heavy gun in his hand felt like much more of a burden than a help at this point. Alfred on the other hand, was safe, something to hold onto that could protect him. It was only when they had reached the door to the roof that Alfred had grinned triumphantly again. And at that point, he knew that they were going to live.

He had let go as soon as they hit fresh air. Arthur's legs trembled, protesting against the sudden getaway. Alfred on the other hand, was peering over the rooftop, which led to the striking realization that they were trapped. There was no helicopter, no hidden trapdoor. Nothing.

"Why?" Arthur's voice was quieter than usual, still heaving from their run.

Alfred didn't look at him, still scanning the streets, and then the skies. "That man that put you on my case. What was he like?"

That was barely important at a time like this! Arthur cursed loudly, picking up what little dignity he had left from that run and stood taller. "Small Asian man. Kinda quiet. Never told me his name."

"Kiku Honda." Alfred's fingers were curling over his own gun, a different and bigger model than Arthur's own. "He was my handler."

"Was?"

"As of five minutes ago." Alfred squared his jaw, taking in a deep breath. "He was my friend too. They must have forced him into it."

Arthur didn't say a word, but he knew what a person looked like when they were being forced into something. He'd seen it enough times on nervous men and women, regretting their decision to have their significant other watched. Or an employee who knew that hiring another party to spy on a rival company was wrong, but it was what he would need to do to get ahead. Kiku Honda was a man who knew what he was doing, his instructions polite, but blunt.

"He put you on my case to distract me. This entire time I've been watching you, and I've paid absolutely no attention to what was right in front of my face."

His hand was taken again, as Alfred led him to the edge of the building. Somehow, he had managed to take the gun from his steel grip as well, checking on what Arthur assumed was the safety. "That call I got back in the room was the last one I'll get from him. I mean, he warned me, so that must mean something right?"

Arthur only nodded in response, not really willing to bring up his observations on the former handler at the moment.

"Either way, something must have happened." Alfred slid the gun in the pocket with Arthur's notebook.

It fit awkwardly against his chest, making it hard for him to breathe when Arthur thought about it too much. He leaned to glance down over the edge, only to have Alfred pull him back with a shake of his head. It was probably better that he didn't look down.

The restaurant where he had first seen him was just a few blocks away. Arthur stared over the tops of the buildings instead, trying to point out the exact location as Alfred fiddled with his phone. Calling help of some kind, he hoped.

"You never answered my question. Why am I here right now?" Arthur spoke with more confidence, demanding answers. "You could have left me behind, or killed me even. Your information would be safe and I wouldn't be holding you back. You're some kinda spy right? So why don't you just kill me, you should be used to it."

Alfred only blinked at him for a moment, putting away his phone. "You're not holding me back."

"Alfred, if I run another step, I'm turning this gun on myself."

He smirked slightly. "Good luck with that. It's not loaded. You're nervous as all hell, do you honestly thing that I would give you a weapon?" Alfred wrapped his arms around his waist, causing Arthur to tense up immediately.

"Wha-"

"Just hold on tight, ok?" Arthur obliged, clinging tight around Alfred's shoulders. The trembling in his body had stopped for the while, feeling a strange calmness come over him.

They were going to jump.

Alfred was smiling at him regardless. "Besides, I think you're kinda cute. You should come with me."

The threat of the tall building was far more concerning to Arthur at the moment. He gaped at Alfred, not understanding one bit of this man.

"Come on! Just one adventure, I promise." Alfred was pleading, like a _child_. "Heights don't really do it for me anymore, you know? And the whole shooting thing and car chases are just old hat." His eyes widened, backing up his begging with a pitiful puppy-dog look. "You're different. You're kinda clueless and adorable, and just the way that you smile is thrilling." Alfred raised a finger, completely ignoring the sounds of yelling from the door. "Just one."

"Ok." Arthur's voice was breathless, his chest tightening from nerves. What on earth had he just agreed to!? This guy was insane! He was standing on the roof with an insane person making demands.

It was then that Alfred had chosen to close the distance between them, causing Arthur to tense up as he felt warm lips against him own. He shivered as he relaxed into the gesture, his heart racing for entirely different reasons. Alfred was amazing. Insane, but absolutely amazing.

There was a bang back at the door as the metal hinges swinging open. The bullets started flying only seconds later. He pushed away from Alfred with a gasp, hearing a bullet whistle right past his head.

"Hey." A gentle hand under Arthur's chin turned him to face Alfred again. "Trust me."

Arthur nodded wordlessly, holding on tight. This was the last he'd ever see of his boring life, wasn't it? Maybe of life altogether. But Alfred told him to trust him, so he would. And maybe it was just physical attraction, or maybe just the thirst for more of this adrenaline that was pounding through his body, strong and addicting, but Alfred seemed like the right choice. He had no idea what was going to happen next, but he was almost sure that this was right.

And with that, they fell.

* * *

It was hot.

It was always hot, actually. Trinidad was a fairly small country, a bit out of the way, but not too far. Alfred had insisted on Switzerland however, going on about some Hemingway novel he had read ages ago and how it would be romantic. Which was an incredibly optimistic point of view in Arthur's opinion, because as far as he remembered, things did not end well in that certain novel. In the end, Switzerland did not last long. A foolish mistake nearly did them in, and they had just barely escaped with their lives. This time, Arthur got to choose. And he chose warmth.

"I'm bored." Those blue eyes stared up at him from Arthur's lap pitifully, pleading for some kind of attention.

Arthur only chuckled and ran a hand through Alfred's hair, not looking up from the book he was flipping through. "Then do something. Don't bother me about it, I'm reading."

"Liar. That book is written in Spanish."

"And I'm learning, so hush."

Alfred only pouted, crossing his arms as continued to watch him.

"When do you want go?"

"Go where, darling?" Arthur finally gave up on the book, putting it down on the armrest of the couch. He had no intention of leaving. The small house that Alfred had gotten through "a few friends" was rather nice. Small, but nice. It definitely beat out hotel hopping in Switzerland. But that was months ago. Maybe years now?

"I have some unfinished business, remember?" He was so stupidly determined. Alfred was always an easy read for him. Not to mention that he was incredibly stubborn, so really, Arthur had never expected him to let it go.

"You want to go back now?"

Alfred pressed his palms together, his eyes wide and pleading. "Please Arthur? One more adventure?"

He laughed lightly, motioning for Alfred to sit up just a little. At least high enough so that his lips could reach him.

"Then wherever you'll go, I'll follow. Besides, I'm getting exceptionally good at saving you ." He kissed him gently, only deepening the kiss as Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck, chuckling against his lips.

"So I'll be needing you to save me again." Alfred nodded as he broke the kiss, grinning cheerfully. Their bags were already packed of course, kept that way in case of a quick getaway. Hidden in that bag, underneath their clothes was an array of weapons, all obtained through less than legal measures. There were no phones, or anything traceable, those sorts of things would only cause trouble while they were on the run. There was also a small box, buried in the mess. And perhaps after all of the running was over, Alfred could finally get down on one knee, and bring up the courage to ask him.

_Just one more adventure. Just this last one, I promise._

* * *

AN: Ahhh thanks for reading! I had so many ideas and backstories for this entire thing, it was really hard to fit it into a oneshot. I wish that I could have expanded on it, but with my slow rate of writing, there was just no way that I could do a multichaptered fic in time. Perhaps another day I'll touch back on this and expand, but for now, thanks again!


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